


Reciprocity

by sambethe



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: He is different.He’s Agent Tyler. Solitary. Alone. Apart.This time it's Michael's turn to forge ahead.





	Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry? Sort of. Look, it's not my fault canon is a giant pile of angst. Or that @cuddlybitch plants more angst in my head with this as the result. Go yell at her too. ;)
> 
> All of this is set somewhere in between the events going on in Saints of Imperfection and The Sound of Thunder. 
> 
> As always, feel free to swing by [tumblr](http://sambethe.rumblr.com) to chat!

He is different.

Not that it isn’t him. Ash.

He is a man Michael would recognize anywhere. His loping gait, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his mouth. They are as familiar to her as her own reflection. He still drinks his tea with entirely too much milk. It makes her smile every time she sees his hand curl around a cup.

It makes her wonder if Klingons drink tea. And if not, what he drank all those months he spent on Qo’noS.

She wonders if she’ll ever get the chance to ask.

She can see him in his eyes as well, even when she’s pretty sure he’d prefer she didn’t. He’s there in his occasional quip to the crew when at his station on the bridge. In the quizzical pull of his brow as he stares at something scrolling along screen in front of him.

But still, the man who walks Discovery’s corridors now is not the man she last watched as he walked away from her in a Klingon back alley.

Many of the changes are subtle - his hair, his beard, the tired lines that creep around the corners of his eyes. Michael wonders if he sleeps even less than he did before.

But others are decidedly less so.

There’s a brittleness, and a hesitancy, to his words that she doesn’t remember. This version of Ash is someone who is quiet, closed off, and angry. The calm, affable man she so admired -- envied -- is nowhere to be found. The old Ash lies buried deep somewhere. 

Or so she hopes. 

She thinks she sometimes sees glimmers. Flashes of humor, grace, and the man who connected to those around him -- to her -- almost as easily as breathing. In those moments his shoulders lose their stiffness and his face goes softer. Each time she feels like she almost reaches him, but then it’s like he catches himself and withdraws.

It’s almost like she imagines each brief encounter. Imagines him.

The Ash here now is one who doesn’t kick out the chair across from him in greeting when she approaches his table in the mess hall.

She hadn’t known the absence of so small a gesture could cut so deeply.

**

Ash continues to avoid her. Though from what she can tell he avoids Tilly, Bryce, and the rest of the crew as well.

A cold comfort, really, if there ever was one.

When she does see him outside of their joint shifts, he is always alone. He’ll be coming from the gym, or on a run, or eating a meal. At the last, he always has a padd out in front of him, the low light of the screen highlighting the drawn quality to his face. The only company she ever sees him with is the shadow of his ever-present security detail trailing nearby.

He’s Agent Tyler. Solitary. Alone. Apart.

She can think of a dozen more words, but they all mean the same thing and they all feel so wrong. Because whatever -- whoever -- Ash Tyler is, she knows he’s not that.

Michael knows she’s had a hand in this, this closed off version of him. But she knows that the distance she caused between them was a necessary one. She had believed what she told him about the hard work ahead of him.

She also knows now that part of her assessment was wrong.

It was, and is, grueling and punishing. It continues to be relentless. But reclaiming her life, who she was and who she now is, was anything but a solitary endeavor. She shudders to think of where she’d be without Tilly. Saru. Stamets. Even Lorca in his own twisted way.

This crew, and this ship, has meant all the difference.

**

Michael keeps trying.

Ash may not push out a chair when he sees her, but that doesn’t mean she can’t sit anyway. He may not welcome her, exactly, when she does, but he doesn’t walk away either.

She’s decided that it’s enough for now.

He’s said he’s searching for a place where he makes sense. He’s told her that he’s found it in Section 31, but Michael remains unconvinced.

She knows where he belongs. It may not necessarily be with her, but it’s definitely here on Discovery. With his friends. With this crew.

It just might take some time for her to make him see it.

It just might take some time for her to make him see it. And that’s ok. This time around she knows it is her turn to be kind, and patient. It’s her turn to let him know she’s the one not going anywhere.

**

“I’m told they’re traditional.”

She’s standing at the door to Ash’s quarters, holding up the two bags in her hand -- one filled with popcorn and the other with chocolate covered almonds. From the corner of her eye she can see Nhan down the hall, but she chooses to keep her focus on the man standing in front of her. His forehead wrinkles as he blinks and takes her in.

He’s wearing standard issue sweatpants and a hoodie. His feet are bare, his toes curling against the dark carpet beneath them. It’s a sight so familiar that it makes her want to cry.

Michael smiles instead.

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought you might be awake too. Can I come in?” She hands him the bag with the popcorn, hoping he’ll see it for the gesture it is.

Before, well, everything, Ash had discovered she’d only seen a handful of old Earth movies while growing up. He had started constructing lists of what they were going to have to watch to catch her up.

_You’re human, Michael. It’s practically mandatory that I help you with this. You’ll enjoy it. I promise._

Michael wasn’t really sure she’d understood the point, but she couldn’t deny his enthusiasm. And the way he had winked at her when it said it hadn’t hurt his case either.

But in the end there hadn’t been time enough.

Now, though, she’s determined to correct that.

“You want to watch a movie? At oh two hundred hours?”

“Yes,” she answers honestly.

She doesn’t look away as he peers down at her, assessing. As he watches her she can’t help but remember her words to him just a couple weeks ago.

_You’ve got me. Right here._

She’s not sure if he remembers them, or even heard her when she said them. She’s not even sure he can read the thoughts she’s sure are clear on her face right now. But when he finally steps away from the doorway and gestures her inside, she lets out a breath.

This is definitely enough. A connection. A tether, no matter how tenuous, to the place she wants to be.

To the person she wants to be.

And with enough time, she knows Ash’ll get there too.


End file.
